On Nothingness
Tentang Malam Kekuasaan / On The Night of Power
Tentang Perjalanan
Aku berjalan merempuhi gelap
Mengharungi sunyi malam keqidaman
Mengikrarkan suatu keEsaan
Alam sunyi senyap.
Aku berjalan melangkau sempadan
Menuju medantarung dunia
Cahaya bingit memecah suasana
Alam penuh rontaan.
Aku berjalan bertatih perlahan
Merebut seulas kasih sayang
Cahaya pagi gilang cemerlang
Seri tiada kilan.
Aku berjalan menghambat dunia
Tegarbugar hidup remaja
Menyelami selautan jutawarna
Tawa tiada duka.
Aku berjalan tegap perkasa
Menggarap erti hidup dewasa
Meneguk asamgaram penuh rona
Alam penuh pancaroba.
Kini aku berjalan mulai gagap
Remang senja makin melebar
Binarmata pun makin memudar -
Aku masih enggan lenyap!
On Work as Identity
We live in an age where “meritocracy” is an accepted coin of the realm. Many of us believe that the just desserts of life – success, money, prosperity – rightly go to those who are seen to have deserved their rewards through education and hard work.
Unlike medieval times, when social roles are assigned to us at birth, and social mobility is limited to a lucky few, or only in rare times of unexpected social upheaval, we take it almost for granted that our rise and fall are something that we deserve to get out of our own efforts.
It is only in the past decade or so, in the aftermath of the global financial crisis and the travails of younger members of society, struggling to afford their own homes or earn a decent salary, that we begin to see that the modern regime of meritocracy can be a facade that disguises the many ways in which privilege can still decide the outcomes of many lives in our society.
We no longer live in an age where a moneyed class can inherit all their wealth, and enjoy lives of dissipated leisure. But it is still true that wealth can afford the best education, afford backdoor access into the best universities through benefactions and alumni networks, afford hard-fought slots in corporate internships that lead to high-flying jobs, and afford the rising costs of healthcare and old age living. It is still true that poverty can keep too many of us in chains which are very hard to break, dragging the unfortunate ones down in poorly-funded schools, in ravaged neighhbourhoods, in crime and in constant lack of economic security.
For those few who are lucky enough to have risen through the gates of meritocracy – succeeding in public school examinations, matriculating into the best universities, making it into high-paying elite jobs – it is easy to come to identify oneself primarily with one’s signal achievements in school and at work.
For many years, it mattered to me what the words on my business card would say, the validation of being in a high-powered role or in a well-respected company. I would even use my business cards as bookmarks, occasionally brandishing them as I am reading, silently glorying in this little piece of existential affirmation, like Gollum and his “precious”.
It took me a while to realise that work is but one facet of a life well lived. Yes, one needs to earn a living, but there is infinitely more to life than a paycheque, or the baubles and possessions that we surround ourselves with through the fruits of our daily work. As Kat would say, you gotta find your own organic interests.
I am also reminded of this quote, from a story told by author Toni Morrison. When she complained to her father about her work, cleaning other people’s homes, her father replied,
“Listen. You don’t live there. You live here. With your people. Go to work. Get your money. And come on home.”
This year, as I am hitting 45, I realise that for many of my peers, this time is the primetime for our economically-earning lives. Some of my friends, people who I used to know in university or in my early years as a fresh graduate, are now Ministers and CEOs, high-flying corporate lawyers and well-respected consultants and bankers. I am not doing too badly myself, but I will freely admit that I had greater expectations for how 45 was going to greet me.
But, like Pip in that Dickensian tale of love and ambition and dashed hopes, I know now that work is but one part of who I am, and I also know now that my mission in these years remaining is to make the most of who I am and what I can be, before I am ready to come on home.
Tentang Ufuk Jingga
Pada wajah ufuk jingga itu aku pahatkan
Suatu doa kudus yang sarat dengan harapan
Aka ikrarkan padaMu wahai Rabbul Jalal
Betapa rasa syukur ini membuak tebal
Telah Kau kurniakan semua kesenangan ini
Yang selama ini aku terima tanpa banyak rasa peduli
Menginsafi - terpacullah kalimah alhamdulillah
Membisikkan rafak sembah dalam nafas lelah -
Kalau mungkin ini kali penghabisan akhir
Pada rona mataku ufuk jingga ini terzahir
Kau ambillah nyawa ini dengan tulus cermat
Aku pasrah mangkat mengharap rahmat.
Tentang Rerautan Wajahmu
Pada rerautan wajahmu itu
Terukir seribu penderitaan
Seumur dirundung pencelaan
Suatu penyeksaan yang jitu
Setiap garis terpahat kemas
Mencatat setiap penghinaan
“Apakah aku yang kekurangan?” -
ratib sang jiwa yang lemas
Sedu sedan kau redamkan
Berbuku dalam cembul sunyi
Tersekam nyalaan mahangeri
“Aku bukan milikmu lagi.”
On This Ramadan Evening (Thoughts on the 20th of Ramadan)
As I am writing this, it is the 20th night of Ramadan, and I have just completed my Tarawih prayers for the evening.
“Would you say this is the best Ramadan you’ve ever had, yang?” Kat looked up at me, asking casually.
I thought about that question, and I am compelled to answer: Yes. I am not sure if this is the best ever, but certainly the best Ramadan that I can remember in years. I am keeping to the Tarawih prayers, every night, mostly at home. I have been keeping pace with my Quran recitation, and I feel calmer than I have felt in a long, long time.
The Quran recitation, I think, has a lot to do with the latter. This year, like most of the Ramadans I can remember over the past decade or so, I made the promise to myself that I would try to recite the Quran in full – to khatam the entire Book by the end of Ramadan. And most years, I would keep pace for maybe the first week, before the full blast of work deadlines and buka puasa invites and moreh gatherings would derail me by around the second week of the fasting month.
This year so far, Alhamdulillah, it has been good. It is the night of the 20th, and I am halfway through the 24th juz of the Quran. And more than just the momentum – I feel a serenity and a palpable sense of flow these nights of Ramadan as I recite the Quran. My Arabic is barely serviceable, but I know enough to make a guess of what it is I am reading – but even when I don’t, the very act of reciting the Quran fills me with a sense of wonder and grace.
As I recite each verse, I feel myself almost floating on a breeze, my tone rising and dipping and rising again to a crescendo as I reach the end of this verse, or at the start of that other verse. At times, my recitation feels like a horse at a brisk gallop, my enunciation almost breathlessly trying to keep up with flow of His Words. At other times, I whisper the words in a low hush, just luxuriating in the melody of the words, many of which sometimes I can barely understand, with my rudimentary command of the language. Sometimes, I hear myself reading the words and I try to imagine how it must have been for the earliest Muslims, to hear this strange music and to know, in their heart of hearts, that what they were hearing was something truly Eternal.
Every year, I am told that we are supposed to make the best of the final ten nights of Ramadan – a final coup de grace to this most revered of months. I am seeing now, though dimly as if through a haze, that feeling of bittersweet embrace, knowing that I am here in the final ten nights and that the sands of Ramadan will soon run out, not to return for another year. InshaAllah, the hope is to make the most of it, before Ramadan comes to an end.
Tentang Melayu, 2023
(dengan pohonan maaf buat arwah Tongkat Warrant)
Melayu itu orang yang bijaksana,
Nakalnya beriring senyum,
Budi bahasa berbunga kuntum,
Kurang ajarnya tetap hormat,
Tutur kata tersusun cermat.
Tapi Melayu kini sudah mula berubah:
Bila menipu tak tau malu,
Bila menyakau berbilion disapu,
Bila mengampu lebat berkipas,
Taat pada bos tiada berbatas.
Tetap berani walau bersalah,
Walau ranap cembul khazanah,
Sudah jadi adat,
lidah menipu ligat.
Melayu di tanah Semenanjung luas maknanya:
Jawa itu Melayu,
Bugis itu Melayu,
Keturunan Nusantara adalah Melayu.
Sekarang ini taikun itu Melayu,
Peguam itu Melayu,
Akauntan itu Melayu,
CEO itu Melayu.
Tapi sayangnya,
Yang menunggang agama itu juga Melayu,
Yang memberi rasuah, Melayu,
Yang makan rasuah, memang ramai Melayu,
Yang sakau duit rakyat itu Melayu,
Tapi masih tergamak mengaku
kununnya dialah pembela Melayu.
Dalam sejarahnya,
Melayu itu pengembara berani,
Melawan penjajah demi pertiwi,
Melorongkan jalur bangsa merdeka,
Mentadbir negara adil saksama.
Namun sayangnya,
Begitu luas khazanah negara,
Dijarah disakau pengkhianat bangsa.
Melayu itu kaya falsafahnya,
Kias kata pepatah lama,
Tapi sayangnya,
Akalbudi pupus dibedal,
Kuasa menang melawan akal.
Melayu sekarang kuat bersorak,
Bangga rezeki Tiktok secupak,
Sedangkan kampung lama tergadai,
Sawah ladang tinggal tersadai,
Tali di tangan mudah dibuang,
Timba yang ada diberi orang,
Dengan harga seguni Birkin,
Amanah rakyat dibuat main.
Melayu itu masih bermimpi,
Walaupun sudah mengenal Harvard, LSE,
Sanggup merompak bangsa sendiri,
Berkelahi cara UMNO,
"Ready to fight" jadi laungan,
Tapi tak sanggup bertarunglawan,
Marahnya dengan diam,
Musuh dibidik dengan meriam,
Menangnya cara kasar,
Ghanimah cita sebenar.
Melayu asalnya menolak permusuhan,
Tapi Melayu hari ini tiada sempadan,
Kalau menang, menang terpaling,
Kalau kalah, ke lubang cacing.
Maruah dan agama jadi tunggangan,
Berlumba demi mencari gelaran,
Alphardnya hitam berkilat,
Lencana kereta mempamer pangkat,
Banglo besar di Bukit Jelutong,
Hidupnya berkiblat laba dan untung.
Baiknya hati Melayu itu tak terbandingkan,
Semua ujaran Presiden patuh diturutkan,
Sehingga tercipta sebuah kiasan:
"Nak hidup, bos!"
Bagaimanakah Melayu abad kedua puluh satu,
Masihkah sanggup asyik tertipu?
Jika yakin kuasa Ilahi,
Usah penyamun dijulangtinggi,
Jika percaya kepada keadilan,
Jangan malu perjuang kebenaran.
Jadilah bangsa bijak dan gagah,
Tolak penghasut tolak perasuah,
Peganglah erat talian Allah,
Jadilah tuan negara bermaruah.
On First and Third Worlds
It was a typical balmy KL afternoon as we were driving towards Mid Valley. The sky was clouded over, and there was a faint promise of rain. As I was steering the car gently towards the basement parking entrance of the Gardens mall, the entrance booth slowly came into view. I did the usual instinctive thing, reaching out to the console on the car’s dashboard where I normally keep my Touch ‘n’ Go card. Just as I was about to lift the card out of its faux-leather sleeve, I noticed, at a glimpse from the corner of my eye, that the parking terminal accepted not only the usual cashless payment of Touch ‘n’ Go, but would also accept credit card payments, including MyDebit, with its distinctive Wifi-looking logo.
“Eh. Can pay with credit card now. I wonder if I can use Apple Pay for parking here.”
“Ooh,” Kat replied. “Try lah.” My wife knew me too well enough by now to know two things. One: I hate unfair and inefficient monopolies on public services, with a level of detestation that Kat herself would normally reserve for cat torturers. Two: ever since I was able to use Apple Pay on my iPhone, I have been constantly delighted at the ability to merely double-press a button, look at my phone to unlock the Apple Pay pay option, and then simply swipe my phone over a terminal to effect payment – my favourite First World-level dopamine shot.
I tried it – and voila, it worked! There I was, happily steering my car past the parking entrance booth with a big smile on my face. Never fails.
Anyways, some minutes later, I found a parking spot not too far from the lobby entrance (another pet habit of mine, the pursuit of which can sometimes drive Kat out of her mind), and as we were heading up the escalators and found ourselves walking past the shops on the lower ground level, a sudden thought came to my mind:
“Alamak! Now I remember: the last time I used Apple Pay to enter a parking lot, I couldn’t exit. This silly building in Bangi hadn’t updated its parking system, and so I could enter the parking with Apple Pay, but the parking terminal couldn’t recognise my Apple Pay when exiting. Hmm. I wonder if I might get stuck when we exit later.”
“Oh well,” Kat said, as she normally would when entertaining my sudden bouts of petty anxiety. “If we can’t exit nanti, you just hit the intercom and ask for help, lah. You’ll be that guy, but it won’t be the end of the world.”
“Hmm, okay.” I shelved the thought away from my mind, and for the next two hours, I didn’t think much of it: the movie turned out to be much more entertaining than I had expected, and by the final joke at the end of the movie credits, the entire hall erupted in whoops of delighted laughter.
“Good movie, huh?? Jarnathan hahah!!!” I was beaming.
“Yeah!” Kat grinned. We fell into talking about our favourite parts of the movie, excitedly. It was a good afternoon.
We did some errands at the pharmacy and the supermarket, and then it was time to head back home. As we got into the car, and I was driving towards the exit, I remembered again with distaste that there was a possibility that I might not be able to easily exit. What I was really anxious about, typically, was that getting stuck at the parking exit would delay others behind me whose lives would be unduely disrupted by something I had committed. The dictum of hidup jangan menyusahkan orang was something I held very closely to heart, and I was happy always to lambast those who would break it. Now it could well be my turn to menyusahkan hidup orang.
As the parking exit booth loomed closer, I slowed down the car to a halt, and pressed the button on my right to roll down the window. (Remember those days when you had to actually wind a crank to bring the window down? Amazing.) I lifted my iPhone from its resting place in the centre console of the car, did the usual Open, Sesame gestures on my phone, waved the front of the phone near the parking console, and winced quietly as the seconds ticked, until –
The exit bar lifted up! It worked! In a fit of delight, I did a little whoop, pumped my fist into the air and yelled out with the car window still down: “Oh yeah! First world, baby!”
As the car eased its way past the exit booth and climbed upwards through the exit ramp into the open air, Kat couldn’t resist: “Hmm. If Lee Kwan Yew could crow about bringing Singapore from Third World to First, I guess we can be proud that Malaysia already has First World moments while still in Third!”
Ba-dum-tishhhh.
Tentang Tenang yang Tiada Tercium
Engkau memandang penuh hukum Tatkala takdir rahmatmu ranum Aku bertenang di hilir ini Meraut seberkas mimpi tersuci Semua sindiran berbalas senyum Tenang hati tiada tercium Jalan gegasmu penuh gerigi Mukim hatiku damai abadi Untuk engkau, jalanlah engkau Untuk aku, haluan aku.